


Happy Father's Day

by DegrassiFanatic



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort No Hurt, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DegrassiFanatic/pseuds/DegrassiFanatic
Summary: From his peripheral, he sees Buck shift around until he’s looking at the photograph from over Bobby’s shoulder.“What were they like?” Buck asks.“Brook loved reading. Her whole bedroom was lined up with bookshelves. Y’know she won this personal essay contest once...” Bobby says, still bragging about his daughter even after how many years have passed since she’s been goneOld habits are hard to break, huh?
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash
Comments: 4
Kudos: 111
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	Happy Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact i wrote this on school wifi
> 
> also i have forgotten how hard it is to write

Yet-to-be-inflated balloons are strewn across the dining room table, only two or three streamers are hung up so far, and a banner that reads  _ Happy Father’s Day _ is still inside the plastic packaging he bought it in. All the decorations have been readily ignored and abandoned in favor of a lovingly worn and torn photo album with a cracked spine; the result of being open and closed for many years. 

Sitting at the head of the table, Bobby touches the cover of the album, gently tracing the words: The Nash Family. 

Although it might seem a tad bit morbid and sad to be alone on Father’s Day looking at photographs of his late family, it’s become some sort of a tradition of his ever since they’ve died. 

It used to be far worse, though. He would call in sick for work if he was scheduled that day and drink his body weight in alcohol as he flipped through the pages of the photo album with white knuckles, refusing to let himself forget what he lost. 

Now, it's different. He turns the pages in the photo album with only a deep ache to replace what used to be a sharp sting in his chest. Memories used to only equate to suffering for him but now Bobby looks at all the pictures with a renewed sense of love.

Overtime, Bobby has learned that memory can be a beautiful thing sometimes.

Bobby was alone in the house today as earlier in the day, Michael had taken May and Denny back to his own apartment for their own private Father’s Day celebration before the joint party that was supposed to take place here in the evening. Michael had asked if he wanted to join but Bobby had only politely declined, only half-lying about having to decorate. 

In all honesty, even after all of these years, Father’s Day was still a sensitive subject for him. 

Suddenly, at the sound of a doorbell chiming throughout the house, all of his melancholy thoughts are put on pause.

Setting aside the photo album on the dining table, Bobby pushes himself out of the chair and walks over to the door. He pulls open the door to find Buck standing on the other side with his hands stuff awkwardly in his front pockets. 

“Hey Buck.” he greets pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Bobby.” he says as he darts his eyes to the ground, “I was—um, I was wondering if I could spend the day with you.”

“You do realize what day it is, right?” Bobby asks as he wouldn’t put it past Buck to forget.

He watches as Buck avoids meeting his eyes, only scruffing the toe of his shoe against the ground. 

“My—my dad’s in town and I really don’t want to be around him.” he begins to explain and suddenly Buck’s surprise appearance makes much more sense, “Everyone else is busy; my sister’s with Chimney and Joy, Eddie’s with Christopher, Karen and Hen are using today as a second Mother’s Day, and Michael has Denny and May at his until Athena comes back from her shift.

“So I was hoping I could spend the day with you?” Buck asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

“With me?”

The small smile that was tugging on the corner of Buck’s lips disappears with his words, in its wake is a resigned look. Nodding his head, Buck lowers his gaze to Bobby’s shoulder. 

“Y’know what, it’s fine.” Buck says, “I’ll just go to the mall or something. Sorry to bother you.”

He feels something sink deep inside of him as he watches Buck turn away, heading down towards where his Jeep is parked near the sidewalk. 

Desperate to right whatever wrong thing he must’ve said or did just now, Bobby blurts out, “I could use an extra hand with setting up for the party today.”

In the middle of the concrete pathway, Buck stills. As he turns around to face him, Bobby pushes open the door fully and motions with his head for Buck to make his way inside. Practically skipping, he does so immediately. 

Once he’s inside, he gestures for him to make his way down to the kitchen as Bobby closes and locks up the front door. 

“Thanks for letting me do this.” Buck says as he picks up a string of reflective blue streamers. 

“Helping me decorate?” he teases as he begins to tear open the plastic packaging of the banner. 

“You know what I mean.” Buck responds with an eye roll.

As he does, he catches sight of the tattered photo album near the edge of the table. Suppressing the urge to hide it away where no one could find it, Bobby lets Buck pick it up and search through it. He decides to concentrate on rolling out the Party City banner in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Buck asks.

“It’s just a photo album from my first marriage.”

Right away, Buck closes it before setting it back right where he got it from. 

“Sorry,” he says with guilt laced in his voice, “You probably don’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll always miss them but, it doesn’t hurt to remember them.” he explains.

At Buck’s hesitant, almost wary look, Bobby decides that maybe it’s time this old photo album finally gets some new attention. Picking it up, Bobby searches through the pages until he finally settles on one. 

“Here, this is my son Junior and this is my daughter Brook.”

The picture was the two of them awkwardly linking their arms around each other's shoulders. It was taken at Junior’s middle school graduation ceremony. With a smile, Bobby remembers how much Brook whined when her parents forced her to take a picture with her brother, complaining that Junior didn’t shower enough and smelled like he just came back from hockey practice. 

From his peripheral, he sees Buck shift around until he’s looking at the photograph from over Bobby’s shoulder. 

“What were they like?” Buck asks. 

“Brook loved reading. Her whole bedroom was lined up with bookshelves. Y’know she won this personal essay contest once...” Bobby says, still bragging about his daughter even after how many years have passed since she’s been gone

_ Old habits are hard to break, huh? _

“Yeah, she won five hundred dollars for it.” he explains, “She was always doing stuff like that.”

“And Junior?”

A chuckle bubbles out of Bobby. 

“Oh God, Junior, he was always getting himself into trouble. But, he was a good kid, he had a good heart.” he remembers.

_ Kind of like someone else I know. _

Pulling his gaze away from where he was looking at Junior’s face, Bobby shifts his attention to Buck. For a second, he takes in just how light his irises are and how blond his hair looks in the light. 

He likes to imagine that this is what Junior would have grown up to look like. 

“Junior would’ve been a lot like you.” he mumbles, more to himself than Buck.

It takes a few seconds of gears grinding and cogs turning around in his brain before Buck fully processes the depth of his words but when he does, he tilts his head to face Bobby and gives him a shy smile before taking a step backwards. 

“High praise.”

“Yeah well not that high.” Bobby jokes as he closes the photo album, “The kid got himself stuck in a tree that was only four feet above the ground once. And I was the one who was dispatched to get him out of there.”

At the story, Buck starts to double over laughing, clutching at his abdomen as he forces himself to take a breath between every wheeze and snort. Soon, Bobby is following suit; Buck’s laughter is infectious even on a bittersweet day like today. 

For a brief moment as he studies the way Buck throws his head back chuckling, he cannot remember if Buck always sounded like Junior while he was laughing, or if Bobby’s still-grief-ridden mind is having some sort of auditory hallucination. 

“Seriously?” Buck asks as the laughter begins to wane. 

“I never let him live it down.” he answers as he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. 

Placing the photo album back on the table, Bobby decides that they’ve spent enough time on the subject and judging by the clock, they should really get back to decorating if they don’t want Athena to come back home to a complete mess. 

“He must’ve been a lucky kid.” Buck says, as Bobby searches through the mess to find a roll of tape or some thumbtacks. 

“Hmm?”

“To have you as a dad.” he explains as he hands Bobby a cello tape dispenser, “Junior, I mean.”

_ If Junior was lucky, he would’ve been alive right now.  _

“When I wasn’t drunk and or high out of my mind, I did alright.” Bobby responds with a hint of self deprecation. 

“Yeah, well, I think you’re doing a great job right now.”

Before Bobby can open his mouth and ask Buck what exactly he’s referring to, he’s cut off by the blaring sound of Buck’s cellphone ringing in his pocket. He pulls it out with a huff and practically glares at the screen lighting up in front of his face.

He waits for Buck to pick up the call but all he does is mute his cellphone and shove it back into his back pocket. 

At the way he clenches his jaw, Bobby can deduce who it is with little difficulty. 

“Your dad again?” he asks.

His only response is a short nod as he begins to busy himself with preparing some pieces of tape for holding up the banner; harshly ripping them off from the dispenser before attaching them to the edge of the table. 

Suppressing a sigh, Bobby knows he needs to push Buck into doing the right thing, even if it isn’t what either of them want to do. 

As much as Bobby wants Buck around today, not only to ward off all the bad memories associated with today’s holiday but also simply because he enjoys the man’s company, he knows he shouldn’t monopolize his time. 

Buck deserves a father. Though Bobby may downright despise Phillip Buckley, the man had the honour of holding the aforementioned title and that was something he could not compete with. 

Buck already has a father. He may not be a good one, but he was trying.

_ Even if he is 29 years too late. _

“Maybe you should go meet him?” Bobby suggests, “I mean, if I got a second chance to become a father, you deserve a second chance to have one.”

Buck stops ripping off pieces of tape. His hands travel down to the edge of the table and he grips so hard at the wood that Bobby’s afraid there’ll be claw indents once he’s finished. 

Within a second, however, he pushes himself off of the table and he goes to reach into his pocket. 

Bobby barely has enough to take a look at what Buck’s pulled out before it’s already shoved into his hands. Tilting his head down, he sees a semi-wrinkled piece of printer paper that has been folded in half to make a card. On the front, in big and bold handwriting that he recognizes to be Buck’s, he sees the words  _ Happy Father’s Day _ and a couple of messy drawings of two firefighters scattered across the page. 

“I already do.” he answers, “Do you—um, do you like it?”

“I love it.” Bobby whispers.

He opens up the card to find a long and what he presumes to be a heartfelt message on the inside. At the top, it says,  _ To the best father _ and at the bottom,  _ Love, Buck _ .

“Also, um, some of those random hearts and flames are courtesy of Christopher, who helped me make this, by the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> i took so many liberties with canon, don't come at me i know. im pretty sure they don't call bobby's son junior but i wanted to and this is fanfic so i make the rules, and also i forgot how old his kids were
> 
> leave me a kudo or a comment and also fuckin send me asks abt 9-1-1 on my tumblr (degrassi-fanatic) i need some variety other than criminal minds fics.


End file.
